Grave
by wendlin
Summary: "I just don't want you to be his Persephone." She wondered when his hand had become chains, dragged her down into the underworld. —SasukeSakura.
1. one

**title:** Grave  
><strong>pairing:<strong> Sasuke/Sakura  
><strong>genre:<strong> sci-fi/romance  
><strong>rating:<strong> T  
><strong>summary:<strong> "He could rule the Underworld." Sakura clutched her side, the blood slipped through her fingers and dripped onto the road. "Why do you say that?" The boy stopped and looked at her, his eyes sad. "I just don't want you to be his Persephone." AU.  
><strong>disclaimer:<strong> I do not own Naruto.

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* * *

><p><em>If a man,<em>  
><em>or anyone really,<em>  
><em>had taken a train,<em>  
><em>from Suna or elsewhere,<em>  
><em>and came to Konoha,<em>  
><em>they would've screamed<em>  
><em>—loud, tormented—<em>  
><em>over the fact that they had gone color-blind.<em>

* * *

><p>("Tsunade called yesterday. Said she had a job for me. She wants me to head over to Konoha."<p>

"Then you should go. You were planning on going back anyway."

"I know. It's just… I don't think I'm ready yet. To go back.")

.

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The city of gray, where everything was either dead or dull, lifeless or broken, and foremost, _hungry_. A biting hunger ate up the whole city so that, son betraying father, or mother selling daughter, or poisoning a customer, was done so that there would be a piece of bread tossed to those who sacrificed and sinned.

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("I'd hate to see you leave. You're a stellar waitress. But it's alright to be selfish. Go back and find what you couldn't find here."

"Hah! This is Konoha we're talking about—_the war sucked it dry_."

"You grew up there.")

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That's why, the uninformed who thought to seek a better life in Konoha of all places—foreigners, mostly—stepped off the train, stared into emptiness, and got right back on; trains never stopped for long at Konoha Station. And nobody ever ventured farther out than a nearby food stand or ticket counter.

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("That's the thing. I _don't remember_. Nothing."

"This is your chance, then. _Go_. Run Tsunade's errand. Ask around about what happened back then; ask if someone _remembers you_. There will always be a job opening here for you and a free place to stay when you come back.")

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Konoha was not a city, but a _grave_. Only particular individuals who happened to be knocking on Death's door ever ventured passed the faded, fallen, and god forsaken sign that read, "Welcome to _Konohagakure_!" Most times, these individuals were prisoners who more or less faced a death sentence and were escorted by policemen to Konoha's penitentiary. Rarely would anyone in their right mind step into the city.

It was a place of gangs.

The poor people who couldn't leave lived in open spaces in the underground sewage channels to avoid getting killed in the gang wars that erupted all over the surface. Food was scarce and everyone was hungry. Gangs controlled the markets and claimed all territory, save the land that the penitentiary sat on. They exploited the weak and established several "red-light districts" where families could sell their daughters into whorehouses in exchange for food and safety. Orphans, starving and on their own, would run errands for gangs and end up dead in gutters or by the side of the road. The government, located outside of the city, never reestablished the police force that was wiped out in the war. The city was a nightmare and the people were living in it—the dark alternate universe that was only second to hell.

* * *

><p>The attendant sucked in cold November air when he read the ticket-owner's destination. His fingers trembled, partly from the biting weather, partly from the shock, as he tore off the necessary piece and returned the slip back to the boy.<p>

The boy was nineteen with dark hair and even darker eyes. He was tall and the line of girls behind him giggled in delight at his handsome features, not to mention, his godly figure. He wore an annoyed look and a black guitar casing that hung over his left shoulder.

Taking his ticket back from the stunned attendant, he stalked up the steps and into the warm interior of the train. He took a seat near the back where the engine churned, preparing for its expedition. It was unpleasant, the smell of the coal, but he would be left alone, and the grumbling of the engine, along with the hum of the train when it moved, would serve to blur out the whispers and gossip.

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_She_ was loud. Louder than the engine that was his saving white noise.

Everything about her was _blaring_, from her shoulder-length pink hair to her gasping for breath because she had woken up late and ran three-fourths miles to the station, to the dark forest green trench coat that taunted passersby to look into her sucking, emerald eyes.

The train started moving.

He looked away.

She breathed out a "hello," and sank, to his dismay, into the open seat to his left. The girls sitting nearby bristled. They sent disapproving looks toward the pink-haired individual, and when they garnered no response, they glared at her with gritted teeth and beady eyes. He would've been slightly impressed of how well she ignored them, but he rather disapproved of her himself and opted to not acknowledge. He turned to look out his window and made a valiant, but ultimately _failed_ attempt to do unto her what she did to the girls.

She dug _loudly_ through her duffel bag and hummed. She was unfazed by the glares sent in her direction. She would sometimes glance at him, he noticed through the window that reflected her, and then return to digging through the monstrosity that was her bag.

A book fell from the dark green duffel and between them. He wondered if she would have the audacity to ask him to retrieve the book for her, to which he already knew he would reply a curtly, "Do it yourself."

The thought was dismissed when she hurriedly grabbed the book and stuffed it back into her bag. Finally, she had found what she was looking for—a bag of almonds—and pushed the duffel to the side.

"Almonds?" A few gasps were heard from the girls and he turned to see her out-stretched hand, offering him almonds.

"No thanks."

He tried to refuse her as meanly as he could. Apparently, she didn't catch on to his attempt—failed, again—and smiled at him. Her eyes danced and he knew, out of experience, that she was intent on starting a conversation with him. He would need to quickly put an end to her curiosity.

"Where are you headed?" she asked.

A perfect question. Nothing should be more off-putting than hearing, and speaking loud enough so the others could hear, that he was headed to, "Konoha."

—_City of Hades_.

The girls in the front gasped; the others who had overheard shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They looked away from him, whispering to each other and then turning back to the front. He believed he had attained the desire effect, but upon meeting flickering emerald orbs, he narrowed his eyes—_annoying_.

Her eyes were dancing again. Her brow was lifted, but a smile graced her lips. He lost to her curiosity once more.

"On business?" she probed thoughtfully.

He didn't know whether to give her a disgusted look or simply turn away from her. He found himself irritated, yet intrigued. After a while, he answered.

"Something like that." He then proceeded to turn away, _with finality_, making it obvious that he could do without a friendly conversation.

"Are you a resident there?"

He closed eyes. This was not working. She must not be fluent in _leave-me-alone_. He spoke without looking at her. "Yeah."

"Hmm." She seemed content with the answer. "I'm Sakura. I'm a resident too."

"Sasuke," he returned.

He did not tell her his name because he had succumb to participate in merry-making with her. No. He simply told her because he thought she should remember him, and his name, in the way that she purposefully made him remember her, and her name. It was only fair.

"You're around my age," she noted after seeing his face like what, _once_? "Do you remember the war?" she asked.

He turned then, to face her.

Though she had tried to make the question casual, he saw through her subtlety. She had put her almonds aside and now sat with a pen and the book that had previously been dropped—it was a journal, he supposed. Despite her clear, smiling face, he knew it well enough that he was being interrogated.

"No. Only that I lost a lot of family. Other than that," and he could see the disappoint, "I don't remember much else."

They fell into a silence, not comfortable, not blaringly awkward.

She opened the red cover and wrote a few things down. He watched her for a while and wondered if that was all it took. When she finished, she fed the journal and pen to her duffel and closed her eyes.

He turned to his window and focused on the blurring forest as the train passed. Quiet was reinstated and despite his early complaints, he was rather bored. While trying to organize his thoughts—he had to find a pay phone when he got to Konoha, he would have to find a motel and food, foremost, he would have to get into contact with his caller—he wondered where _she_ was headed.

Though the thought humored him, it was rather preposterous—she wasn't headed to Konoha. Surely not.

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The train left them.

The girls stared out the window at the handsome boy with the guitar casing over his left shoulder. And though it was ridiculous, they were secretly jealous of the girl with pink hair and a dark green duffel bag that stood, yawning, beside him.

Sasuke just glared at her, _Sakura_ was it?

She turned to him, her eyes dancing again. "Do you have a place to stay, Sasuke? Do you have friends or relatives here?"

"What are you doing here?" he asked curtly. "Do you even know _where the hell you are right now_?" His eyes were narrowed—she was very formidable in pissing him off.

"Don't worry Sasuke," she replied, ignoring his glare and the rumble in his throat. "I'll be fine."

"This is _Konoha_. Once you leave the station, you're not 'fine'." He thought back to when the attendant called for those who were stopping at Konoha. She was quick to wake and before he could wonder _what the hell_ she was doing, she was behind him, eyes still sleepy, but mind unwavering—_fearless_. "It's not too late to go back," he said softly.

Sakura pulled out a polaroid camera from her duffel and snapped a picture of him—the click and the flash caught him off-guard. The camera buzzed and afterward, a photo was dispensed. She looked at it and slipped it into her pocket—oblivious that he wanted to strangle her. Then she smiled and took a picture of herself. He waited with clenched fists as a second photo was dispensed from the old camera. She handed it to him.

He took the photo and met with a pretty, smiling girl with pink hair. "What—"

"Keep it," she said, putting the camera back inside her duffel and zipping it up. Then she grabbed the dark green monster that held her things and faced him politely, in farewell. "There a motel not far from here. If you're ever in trouble, head to the big gray building downtown. You'll find help there." With that she stood on her tip-toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Tell them you're a friend of Sakura's and they should be hospitable, or at least, feed you."

He just stood there—angry and _pissed off_ and wordless—as she walked out of the station after waving a 'hello' to the girl at the ticket counter. He might've followed her, kept her with him till his thoughts had sorted and he figured out what to do with her, but his eyes caught the shadow of a man who now stood on his right.

"_Madara_."

"We have work to do."

When Sasuke look back, out into the cold, gray city, she was gone.

He tucked the photo in his jean pocket and followed the man.

He didn't think he would ever see her again.

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_tbc_.


	2. two

**title:** Grave  
><strong>pairing:<strong> Sasuke/Sakura  
><strong>genre:<strong> sci-fi/romance  
><strong>rating:<strong> T  
><strong>summary:<strong> "I just don't want you to be his Persephone." AU. Sasuke/Sakura.  
><strong>disclaimer:<strong> I do not own Naruto.

* * *

><p>"You have only grown more beautiful."<p>

The man who spoke was tall. Most men were taller than her and so most times, unless they were a paying customer at the restaurant, she would avoid talking to them as it strained her neck and all they thought about was sex anyway. Well—she smiled and thought to the photo of _him_—there were _some_ who were decent.

Kakashi was an exception though. Sure, sex was on his mind too, but she would overlook that because he assured her she was young and he preferred much older, 'bustier,' women. Whatever. Kakashi was an old friend. She would put up with his erotic male mind.

"You've gotten older," she replied.

He was in his late twenties. He had a mature handsomeness to him which he usually used to deceive people. He had unkempt silver hair, wore a white bandage over his left eye, and a dark blue mask that hid the lower half of his face.

She never asked about the bandage.

"You've always been into older men," he countered with ease. He grabbed her duffel bag from her and led the way.

They were the only one's walking. It seemed like it would be that way for miles.

"It's become more quiet," Sakura noted, looking around at the gray buildings and the endless stretch of gray road. There were parked cars by the side of a store or in front of a fire hydrant; they probably didn't run. The two quietly walked by dusty shops that never recovered from the war and stepped over snow-covered welcome mats and fallen signs.

Kakashi nodded. "A new group appeared out of nowhere recently. Red clouds—that's the sign they're using. I suppose it's something like, 'We'll make it rain blood—'"

"—how poetic—"

"—or something equally morbid. Tsunade would've arranged a meeting of compromise but they're not the negotiating type—we found that out when they blew apart the town next door."

"Did she call for a medic?"

"No," Kakashi replied. He seemed hesitant when he continued. "It was Danzo who asked for you. The old man is putting together an assassination team. He's planning on fighting back the _Akatsuki_."

The two got to an alley that led to the underground sewage channel. Sakura stood staring as far back as her eyes could reach. A small boy, the first living person she's seen since Kakashi, was quickly running down the steps and disappeared.

Apparently she had been moving toward the alleyway because Kakashi had grab her wrist and stopped her. He looked down at her sternly—it reminded her that _he_ was the one who saved her from that life. She was an orphan, among so many others, but they met and he just grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. She had nightmares of what would've happened to her if he hadn't taken her from that place.

Probably dead in a gutter somewhere or stripped of all her dignity in a whorehouse.

Kakashi sighed and released his grasp. "Danzo's waiting. You'll meet the others. I don't know how much you'll like them, but if it's any consolation—"

"He's confident I'll take the job?" It's not like she desperately needed the money. Being back in the city, she felt it again—_the despair_. She was afraid it was going to eat her up.

"Well, he wouldn't have made Tsunade call you, and have you make a trip, if he wasn't positive you would accept."

She lifted her brow, meeting her savior's concealed face.

"He'll pay you in information, Sakura," and it was the first time he's said her name in so long. "I have reason to believe he knows about your family," she froze, "_useful_ information."

"He knows I want to recover my memories." He knew her weakness.

Kakashi turned away, guilty for knowing what she wishes people didn't, and began walking again. He would've pulled her along, like he had done in the past, but Sakura had grown—matured. Four years of not seeing her, and seeing her now—strong, determined—he wondered for how much longer could he pretend to be unattracted to her.

"We're almost there," he said breezily. "Tsunade changed the meeting house after the town next door was obliterated. Let's hurry."

* * *

><p>"Whoever she is, she's probably dead by now, don't you think?"<p>

Madara always had a way of saying demented things with and easy grace and a twisted smile. "If she's staying downtown… well," Madara looked innocently at the boy pretending to be focused on opening his guitar case, "you heard the gunshots for yourself. Akatsuki has been merciless lately."

Although Sasuke put up with Madara, he didn't like the man. _Despised_ would've been suitable. But their relationship was one in which they used each other, so it wasn't like Sasuke felt obliged to like him or anything.

"Aren't _you_ the one behind the Akatsuki," Sasuke stated rather than asked.

"You've become more observant," Madara replied in delight, remembering the boy who only knew to scowl and glare back then. "You have to be observant in this field of work," he said with a nod.

_Whatever_. Sasuke could do without the tasteless praise. "Just tell me the job. Who is it that's giving you enough trouble to personally contact me?"

Sasuke opened the guitar case to reveal an array of weapons. The girls on the train wouldn't have sent him those adoring stares if they had known—he wondered what _her_ reaction would've been.

"Naruto." Madara threw a file onto the couch. "He's your age," he said as he went to pour himself a glass of wine.

Sasuke didn't reach for the file.

"The Akatsuki can't kill a nineteen-year-old boy? They've been slacking. You must be upset."

Madara was not one to play into the childish trap Sasuke had set for him. He merely shrugged and continued. "_Uzumaki_, Naruto. Yondaime died in the war, but he left one hell of a legacy and a son who knows how to _survive_ just as much as you know how to **kill**."

Sasuke pulled his katana out of its sheath. He inspected the cool blade.

"I want you to kill him. _Tonight_, and by all means. After tonight he could be in the company of the Konoha Protection Force. Once he's with them, you'll have to expend more energy to kill him." Madara's voice turned sickeningly sweet, "I would hate for you to have to stay here any longer than you have to."

Sasuke scoffed beneath his breath. "How considerate you've gotten."

Then Madara was in front of him, placing a wine glass onto the coffee table, beside the guitar case that held no guitar. "If you're thinking of looking for the girl at the Protection Center, I'm going to have to discourage you." There was a pause and Sasuke went on with inspecting the row of kunai. "Even if she was lucky enough to be saved, you wouldn't be able to see her. They don't allow in _Uchihas_, you see."

Sasuke didn't respond.

"It's best to just think of her as dead," Madara proposed nonchalantly.

* * *

><p>When the saw each, they just sort of stood there—<em>staring<em>.

It was like they wanted to run and give each other a hug, but Tsunade kept to her professional façade and Sakura wasn't one to get emotional. Not in front of Danzo anyway.

The old man greeted her with a nod. The right half of his face was covered in bandages that Sakura could care less about.

She didn't like him—neither did Tsunade or Kakashi. But she couldn't deny that he's saved more lives than she could count. So she told herself not hate the man, as it would've made her petty and ignorant. And him, a hero.

The four stood in the hallway of a closed down movie theater.

"The other two are inside," the old man said.

He walked to Theater 2 where two men guarded the double-doors. They opened the doors for him and waited for Tsunade, Kakashi, and Sakura to walk through before closing it.

Inside, the theater was silent.

In the front row two seats were occupied.

* * *

><p>After sorting out his weapons and choosing which he would use on this particular job, Sasuke left the stuffy, over-furnished apartment and found himself standing in front of the train station, looking in the direction where she had disappeared.<p>

Madara had gone to meet with Akatsuki to tell them to back down for the night—Sasuke worked alone. Anyone else would just be an interference.

The boy reached into his right side jean pocket and pulled out the photo. _She had kissed him_, he thought with displeasure. Sure, girls had thrown themselves at him before, but no one had dared to _kiss him_.

He supposed that it was his bad luck to have met her. But it didn't make sense that he was partly grateful for having said bad luck.

_What kind of person was she_? _What was she doing right now_? He thought about these things.

As his discontentment grew—_she could have left her number at least_—he decided to dismiss such meaningless things and return to the apartment.

He would sleep till the sun fell and then he would do the job and go—_look for her_—home. He would just get back on the train and go home.

* * *

><p>The two others were a guy and a girl.<p>

Sakura assumed them to be dating.

The girl had baby blue eyes and long blonde hair that she tied up. The boy had bored brown eyes with brown hair that was tied in a way that with his head, could create the silhouette of a pineapple.

Sakura recognized the boy.

_Nara_, _Shikamaru_. He was a genius and was sometimes on the newspapers that customers brought in. The girl sitting beside him looked like his whiny, cheerleader girlfriend. When she saw Sakura, her eyes narrowed. And, like the whiny, cheerleader girlfriend Sakura suspected her to be, the girl grabbed onto her boyfriend's arm like, "He's _my_ man."

Sakura just rolled her eyes. Kakashi chuckled beside her.

The two rose once everyone was gathered in the front where the screen rose to the ceiling.

Danzo didn't bother with introductions and started speaking.

"Shikamaru, Ino," which Sakura suspected was the girl's name, "Kakashi, you three are to infiltrate the nearest Akatsuki base—my men will take you there. Ino, you will be the distraction in order to create an opening for Kakashi and Shikamaru. You two," he said, turning to the other two and ignoring the girl, "will use the opening to get into their planning room. There, Kakashi will stand guard and the main objective is for Shikamaru to memorize the maps they have. Every single one." The two nodded, unfazed by the quick and directness of the order.

"Why not just steal them?" Ino asked, to which she received a glare from Danzo and an under-the-breath '_idiot_,' from Shikamaru.

"We don't want to tip them off that we're planning on destroying their organization," Tsunade clarified, saving Danzo the irritation and the girl from a lecture.

Ino retreated into silence beside Shikamaru.

Then Danzo turned to Sakura.

"As for you," out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tsunade stiffen, "you'll be reuniting with an _old friend_."

* * *

><p>The night brought in a storm and snow fell steadily, covering the gray buildings in soft white.<p>

Madara was asleep on the couch—Sasuke had already packed his things so that he would leave for the station once he got back—and the hired assassin left soundlessly.

Before he left he had flipped through the file and made note of the blonde hair and blue eyes of the one who would die by his blade tonight. The file was a lie, as it had no useful information about Naruto—it was actually more of a composition of things pertaining to his father.

Madara knew little about the exact whereabouts of the boy.

Sasuke didn't mind the challenge, or the greater pay.

Madara had told him that Naruto was somewhere downtown, making use of alleyways and abandoned buildings to hide his tracks and was heading towards the Protection Center. Madara didn't know whether Naruto was a fighter or not—it could be assumed so—but he trusted that Sasuke could handle the kid, whatever the case.

It was another tasteless compliment.

The assassin cleared his mind and set out into the night.

* * *

><p>When Naruto saw her, he got all teary-eyed. Her pulled her into his arms and hugged her. It was neither awkward nor uncomfortable—just warm and <em>familiar<em>.

But she didn't remember him. Not like he remembered her.

"I thought I'd never see you again," he said when he finally pulled back to look into her face. "But I remember the hair, and god, _the eyes_." He looked fearlessly into the sucking emerald pools and just pulled her close again. "I've missed you, Sakura," he said in a whisper.

She had a billion questions for him. _How do you know me_? _Did you know my family_? _Where did I lived_? _Were we friends_? _What happened to us_? _What happened to _**me**? But that wasn't part of the job. And her only source of information was in danger.

"You're not safe," she said into his shoulder. "We need to get out of here and to the center."

He pulled her back and looked into her eyes. He nodded in understanding and the two left through the window.

They climbed onto the roof of the abandoned flower shop and proceeded carefully from roof to roof. Though Naruto felt that it completely exposed them, he could see that it would help them in spotting any incoming threat. Mostly, he just trusted her.

She felt him following behind her. She felt him smiling at her back. And she felt the warmth of being with him despite it snowing on them and them being a good meter apart.

She felt that she _knew_ him. This person.

And then she saw the flicker, faster than a blink, sweeping across the white, glowing snow, far in the distance.

"Down," and the two helped each other slip into a building.

"They're here," Naruto said when they had settled into the spacious, dark room.

"No." She stared out the window. "There's only one."

* * *

><p>Sasuke entered through the front door of the dance studio.<p>

There's was no need to mask his presence, they already knew he was there. And if they thought they could manage to outrun him… it would be a rude awakening, wouldn't it?

There were two.

One of them was Naruto, the other unimportant.

On the third floor, he felt their presence, as he knew they felt his. Though it was dark, he heard the breathing from the far corner, by the window.

Naruto would be the one to jump out and run, the other would stay behind—stupidly sacrificing himself. He would be able to catch up to Naruto in no time.

Sasuke took a step forward.

.

.

.

Sakura took a step back.

The room was silent, and then—

Naruto jumped at Sakura's push; the assassin caught his face in the moonlight of the window. There was a thud as the blonde landed and then there was running.

Before Sakura could make a clear distinction of the enemy, he was standing in front of her, his right hand clasped mercilessly around her throat and she felt the cool blade piercing into her gut. _But all she could think about was protecting Naruto and keeping herself alive_.

She threw a punch into the assassin's gut.

It was weaker than her usually punches which could break buildings, but it was enough that she heard the grunt of having the air knocked out of him, and the dark figure falling back into the still blackness.

And then he was back.

* * *

><p>Sasuke grabbed the opponent and threw him against the right-side mirrored wall of the dance studio.<p>

They fought in the darkness and the more they pushed and pulled against each other, the more he noticed the thin arms and thin legs—

—_a girl_.

He was fighting with a girl.

* * *

><p>They wrestled and Sakura felt the blood, the glass in her skin.<p>

She felt her strength deteriorating and the assassin getting stronger. And stronger. Till he pressed her to the floor and used his weight to hold her down.

She heard the katana being slid out of its sheath.

She closed her eyes.

And then—

"_SAKURA_!"

The weight was off her and all she could think was, _Why didn't you run_?

And then—

She saw him.

The black of his hair. The white of his skin. And the _red_ in his eyes. All illuminated by the moonlight that poured into the room, revealing everything.

Their eyes met—

—and then the world went black.

.

.

.

Those eyes.

_The eyes that existed in her nightmares_.

.

.

.

_tbc_.


	3. three

**title:** Grave  
><strong>pairing:<strong> Sasuke/Sakura  
><strong>genre:<strong> adventure/romance  
><strong>rating:<strong> T  
><strong>summary:<strong> "I just don't want you to be his Persephone." She wondered when his hand had become chains, dragged her down into the underworld. AU. Sasuke/Sakura.  
><strong>disclaimer:<strong> I do not own Naruto.

* * *

><p><strong>part i.<strong>

_you saved a girl _  
><em>with skin of snow<em>  
><em>with hair of pink<em>  
><em>and eyes that glow<em>_  
><em>

* * *

><p>"<em>Here we are<em>," he tried to sound enthused but he's seen his apartment like, every day, and it wasn't exactly an adventure park.

The girl didn't think so either.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

He pulled her toward the bathroom but she held onto the nearby kitchen counter. Her eyes were narrowed and they told him she was tired of being dragged around. He supposed some sort of explanation would lessen her reluctance and he wondered how to say it exactly.

All he could think of was, "I'm not going to sell you," and "You can leave anytime you want." He didn't know how comforting that was to a twelve year old that had lost everything, but the fierceness in her eyes softened and she looked at him squarely. "Are you going to," she hesitated at the last second and turned away. He heard the muffled, "_use me_," and he found himself turning away too. _Amused_—he tried to keep a straight face as her cheeks flushed to the color of roses.

She stiffened, angry. He would've teased her ("_No way, kiddo_. _You're not my type_.") but he decided there would be time for that later, when she was more comfortable around him—or perhaps, _not comfortable_, in which she'll leave.

"I won't hurt you."

* * *

><p>Sakura got along well with Kakashi, though there were days when the two thought the other to be extremely disagreeable.<p>

He was handsome, and heroic—later she would discover his less admirable traits.

He was kind and she marveled at how he had an unending supply of stupid excuses he kept on the tip of his tongue. He would charm her with his ridiculous justifications when he got home late; she would launch their already scarce silverware at his head. She knew him to be honest (when necessary) and he took care of her like an older brother.

Living with Kakashi, it was like having a family again.

He brought home books for her and every month, a newspaper. He came home late most days, she never asked why. He wouldn't bothering being clever about it—probably because he was so bad at being stealthy that she wondered how he ever came back alive from missions. It pissed her off that he would just stroll into her room, announce he's home, and close the door before various items flew at his head. He never made her worry. That much.

Sakura found out that she tolerated—_liked_—him because he could stand right next to her, and yet, put galaxies between them.

He made her comfortable—she was already throwing lamps at him by the end of the first week. She trusted him and she did her best not to be a burden even though he insisted she wasn't.

She never asked why he chose her from a group of so many.

She was terrified that he wouldn't know the answer. He would reconsider and come to the realization, "I made a mistake," and take her back. The thought became her nightmare.

_Nightmares_. They plagued her. Living inside her like a sickness, a cough that wouldn't go away, a cancer.

Kakashi never asked what the nightmares were about. "There are no monsters in the closet, Sakura," he would tease through the doorway. "There's no need to be frightened, your knight-in-shining-armor is just in the living room." Sakura would throw a pillow at him.

The worst nightmares were the ones with the man who was an artist. He had red eyes and a wicked face and he painted red buildings and red roads with her parent's blood. She would be restless and Kakashi would wake her. They would have coffee in the living room and stare out the wide windows of his apartment.

"He's dead," Kakashi would say, because he knew.

"What I would give for him to be alive," she would reply, "so I can run a dagger into his heart."

"You're not that kind of person."

"_Then why do I think about it every day_?"

Kakashi kept her sane.

She wondered how she would ever repay him.

* * *

><p>She lived with Kakashi for six months before she finally left the apartment to find work.<p>

Sakura met Tsunade who had been a coworker of her father's, but because the two were only passing acquaintances, the woman didn't have much insight into Sakura's life before the war.

Tsunade was beautiful, with blonde hair and hazel eyes. She ran what was left of the Konoha Protection Force after the government abandoned it. Kakashi was part of a task team there.

Sakura was assigned to manage the medical library and she frequented the hospital when they needed help. Mostly, Sakura read books and ran errands.

Kakashi taught her how to defend herself; Tsunade took her on as an apprentice and paved the way for Sakura's inhuman strength and medical aptitude.

She should've known that God was going to make her choose.

_He had no choice_, really.

Sakura was receiving so much.

* * *

><p>("Hey, this is Anko. Tsunade gave me the apartment number. This is Sakura, right?"<p>

"…"

"Sakura?"

"Yeah, hey. Did something happen?"

"Nah. Same old, same old. I called because I thought you might be worried about Kakashi."

"…"

"He's recovering."

"That's good to hear. Take care of him, Anko."

"Sure thing, kiddo."

"…"

"Sakura? Can I ask a question?"

"What is it?"

"Why did you leave?"

"…"

"…"

"Because I chose freedom.")

* * *

><p><strong>part ii.<strong>

* * *

><p>She woke to a familiar ceiling.<p>

"It's been four years," a voice said. "_Here we are_."

Kakashi stood over her, his visible eye tired and his face stern. "You're awake. We thought you wouldn't make it." He sighed and pulled the desk chair over to the bed. He sat down and looked at her. "How're you feeling?"

"Where's Naruto?" Sakura asked. Her voice came out scratchy, foreign. "How long have I been out? Did you catch the assassin?"

Kakashi was angry, he kept his voice leveled but she knew he was furious—they had lived together for four years after all.

"Naruto is safe and rest assure, he's not as badly beaten up as you are," Kakashi replied. He rested his back against the back of the chair and looked at her with arms crossed. "You've been out for three days and you fell in and out of consciousness for two. Today's the sixth day since you came back to Konoha. It's been almost a week."

"And the assassin?"

Kakashi shook his head. "Naruto was top priority according to Danzo. The assassin left when we arrived and it would've wasted time were we to follow him. The two of you were losing blood; we had to get you both to the hospital."

Sakura decided she wanted to sit.

She wanted to move around and have her body feel like it was hers. She used her arms as support, but it felt like she was trapped beneath a mountain—the black figure holding her down appeared in her mind.

Kakashi moved in to help her, he ignored how she faltered at his touch. He leaned her softly against the headboard and sat back down.

"Danzo wanted you to continue with the operation, but Tsunade wasn't going to risk your safety. She's bringing the files over." Kakashi watched as her dull eyes widened, the gray pools were filling up with a vibrant green. They were flickering with wonder and questions and he nodded. "This'll give you a place to start. Names, faces, street addresses. The files should have those things."

Tear were in her eyes and the heaviness lessened. Kakashi sighed. "Well I'm glad you thought this whole thing was worth it."

* * *

><p>After Tsunade handed the files over to Sakura, she dragged Kakashi out of the room. Sakura wondered why till she opened the top file.<p>

There was a ticket.

The girl took a breath, holding the slip of paper like it was her lifeline.

No one understood her like Tsunade.

There was a note beneath the ticket.

_I don't know how much time I can give you_. _  
>Kakashi isn't a fool<em>. _This is the only opening I can make for you_.  
><em>Adrenaline and pain killers are in the bag<em>. _  
>Call me when you get Oto<em>.

Sakura reached for her dark green duffel Tsunade had left on the edge of the bed and pulled it over—her arms felt like they were going to break off. She opened the bag and scattered with an array of other drugs, she saw the prepared syringe—the white liquid glistened—and needle.

Sakura breathed in. She pulled the comforter to her mouth and bit onto the thick fabric. Then, she carefully slid the thin needle into her upper left arm. She watched the white liquid disappear as she closed down on the pump. _This is freedom_. Her scream was muffled by the comforter.

And then her whole body was electrified. _Buzzing_.

While it had taken her minutes to pull the bag over, fiddle with the zipper and take the syringe and needle out, it took her mere seconds to throw everything back in. She changed out of the hospital garment and into a blue dress—despite the weather, it would be easier to run. She slipped into shorts and pulled her arms through her favorite dark green trench coat. She was at the door before she remembered she needed to breath.

She took one look at the apartment.

Before she dashed down the street, her bare feet teasing the soft, icy winterland beneath her.

* * *

><p><strong>part iii.<strong>

_you saved a girl_  
><em>with skin of snow<em>  
><em>with hair of pink<em>  
><em>and eyes that glow<em>

_but in the end_  
><em>she let you go<em>

* * *

><p>"Sasuke."<p>

She was gasping, she wondered if he heard her.

Maybe it wasn't him at all.

But the boy in front turned, his coal blacks eyes narrowed and his brow lifted.

"And you said you would be alright. So why is it that you're all patched up looking like you nearly died?"

* * *

><p><em>and followed Hades<em>  
><em>to the world below<em>

* * *

><p>tbc.<p> 


End file.
